The Rending and Reconstruction of Sam Uley
by The Sun In The East
Summary: When Sam Uley first transformed, in tore his very personality in half. Two entities, Sam Uley and The Wolf, fighting for control of a single body, threatening to tear it apart in the process...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All characters, settings, etc. belong to Stephanie Meyer.

**Chapter 1: Sam and The Wolf**

It was like my bones were shattering and reassembling, over and over again. My vision swam, splotches of blackness swarming over a slate gray sky. I could see something jutting out of my face, painfully ripping it's way forward. I panicked, and began to struggle, but the pain in my hips and shoulders was so intense. I began to fear I would never walk again. It wasn't that coherent a thought, at the time: just a terror clawing through my whole body like the hands of Death himself. I imagined it that it was Death doing this to me, some cloaked figure reshaping me as if I were mud in his hands.

It was at this point that I worried I was no longer human. It was the dawning of my insanity; a dark wall thrust right down the center of my brain, a splintering of the man and the creature into two separate entities, working together to rip a single body to pieces.

There was a beast roaring inside my chest, and my insides burned as if the creature was trying to claw its way out. The monster was threatening to destroy me. I began to forget who I was, and had to forcefully remind myself: _I am Sam Uley. Whatever is happening to me, I am still Sam Uley._

In that moment, however, I wasn't entirely sure how true that was. I tried to force myself back into my own body, but somehow, that was my body. It felt comfortable, even as it felt entirely wrong.

I couldn't turn back. I lay there for an eternity, little lupine whimpers emerging from my snout. I wanted to break down into tears, but all that came out were yipping cries that sounded like they had come from the throat of a dog. I was trapped.

Finally, as night fell, I got up. I stood onto four gargantuan paws, feeling like a stranger in this body. I could feel wind buffeting the hairs all over my body, and I could see great black paws beneath me. I tried to walk like a person, up on two legs. What a sight I must have been, a massive black wolf using the trees for support to stumble, step-by-step through the forest.

I crashed through the trees and out into my own backyard, falling onto four paws with a weight that kicked up the last leaves of autumn, which littered the ground all around. I took a few steps toward the house's inviting back door, and then slunk back. That was the home of Sam Uley, and in that moment, I was not Sam Uley. I didn't know who or what I was. I was the wolf that ate Sam Uley. I paced back and forth across the yard, unable to control the quiet, animal whimpers that occasionally climbed up out of my chest and through the unfamiliar snout. After an eon, as the sun was swallowed by the reddening horizon, my mother came out the back door. I could just barely see, through my wolf's eyes, how her hand's shook. It was only after I noticed this that I noticed the shotgun, gripped by white knuckles and aimed directly at my head. I remembered buying her that shot gun. For protection.

"Get away, Wolf," she shouted, taking unsure aim at me. I backed away, crouching and staring up at her. My eyes were still my own. Sam Uley still saw through those great golden eyes. Why couldn't she see that? Still, the gun's muzzle followed me. I opened my mouth, but that only made her tighten her finger around the trigger. I couldn't speak. I was only showing my teeth, redoubling her terror. I turned and ran. I ran with abandon now, all four paws slamming against the ground, each landing with a thud that mimicked the racing of my heart. It reminded me of a poem I had known once, as a man, in that other life that had so suddenly been cleaved away from me. Onward, onward, rode the six hundred. The charge of the light brigade, with each beat of its rhythm, a horse's hoof slamming against the sanguine ground. And though the ground below me was crisp and dry, I still felt as if I was one of those 600. Sam Uley felt dead and gone, reborn in this wolf that still carried his consciousness, a burden that drew me once again into the territory of the humans.

But I couldn't. Some self-preservation, some instinct, kept me in the forest. I ran endlessly, but always away, away, away from that which I had known. The poem felt farther and farther away. It was so… human. The Wolf did not understand. I tried to force myself back into a form I understood, but all it accomplished was to send a ripple of pain down my spine. Each time, I stumbled, but the instincts of the wolf drove me on, running, unable to find humanity once again.

Finally, The Wolf could run no more. Neither could I. We collapsed, The Wolf and I, warring on over the single body. Finally, exhaustion overcame us. We slept.

_The Wolf woke some hours later, hunger clawing at his belly. He slunk through the underbrush, leaves and twigs snagging in his fur. He was too large to be properly stealthy, but the distracted rabbit was no match for him. One lone wolf could not bring down a dear, which was what the Wolf truly craved, and so the rabbit would have to do. He brought it down easily, following instincts as wolves had done for centuries. The Wolf brought down his first kill without thought or morals, as The Human sharing his mind would have. He ripped out the white rabbit's stomach, blood spraying in dark droplets over his muzzle._

The taste of meat woke me. The Wolf loved it, basking in the rich taste and aroma and the feeling of warmth as it landed in our empty stomach. I retched, and vomited what has already been eaten out in clumps onto the rabbit's corpse. The Wolf protested, but I ignored it, and turned around. The Wolf's instincts understood most of the scents that assailed my nose, but I wanted nothing of the Wolf. I shoved it aside, trying to backtrack my way home by eyesight alone. Before long, the Wolf's protests became too powerful to ignore. A singular scent assaulted me, an overpowering message to TURN AROUND, TURN AROUND, LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE. The Wolf's instincts screamed that I had to leave, that this was unfriendly territory. Frightened, I began to back off, out of this foreboding area.

Too late.

The wolf appeared only a few yards away, snarling at me. The assaulting scent had been the edge of his territory, which I had blatantly ignored. Others appeared behind him, a group of hunters, all bearing yellowed teeth at me. For once, the wolf and I agreed. We turned and ran. The pack followed us, their low snaps lingering about my ears. Three streaks of pain appeared on my side as the fastest wolf dug his claws into me, a lasting warning of what would be done if I ever came back. From then on, I let the Wolf's instincts guide my step.

I wandered for hours, trying desperately to trace my panicked path and find my way home. But the wolf's instincts could not lead me down a path that was not there. Wherever I was, I was nowhere near the path I had run down to get me there. The Wolf told me to stop, and so I did. There was an abandoned den, it's nose told me, not far off. I could sleep there. The idea of it repulsed me. Even more repulsive was the overwhelming smell of other wolves when I did finally crawl down into the dark den. It was empty now, as it clearly had been for some time, but the previous inhabitants had left their mark.

But the den would be where I slept. If I was to be stuck in this body, I thought—A sentiment which had been rising in me throughout my numerous failures to become human again—I would have to figure out how to live as one. And that meant listening to the Wolf.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Characters, settings, etc. belong to Stephenie Meyer. Also, gory chapter. Be forewarned.

**Chapter 2: The Dreams of Sam Uley, The Dreams of The Wolf**

I dreamed that night, visions more vivid than any I had ever experienced as a human. I dreamed of Leah, of the way her stern, dark eyes locked onto mine even if we were across the room from each other, and the way her hair landed and splayed her shoulders. I dream of going to college, and of asking her to marry me, of my child-self, of the family we would have. I dream in flashes of images, joining in a sort of quilt to create the patchwork of my human existence. And as the dream flowed in and out of time, it occurred to me that that existence seemed over. And just as that dawned on my sleeping self, the dream changed.

A creature clawed through the fabric of the dream, laying waste to my dreams. The Wolf, with a mixture of blood and saliva oozing forth from it's jaws. Scraps of fabric clung between its teeth as it claimed the nutrients of my existence, taking the form of a quilt spread out over the forest floor. The quilt bled, more and more with each beating of my heart, the lifeblood of my humanity being reclaimed by the earth and stolen away into the belly of the Wolf.

And then, suddenly, the consciousness of the wolf was leaking out into my own, seeping like mercury from it's eyes, nose, and mouth. The liquid painted itself across my vision, and I sink through it, till I am a four-legged beast chasing beings of white marble across the forest. The air they passed through was cold as ice, and each glimpse of their eyes burned like fire into my brain, the scent leaving tattoos on the insides of my nostrils.

Finally, the marble beings faded, and I was no longer sure if I was awake. The forest seemed to menace me, challenging me to push further into its depths so it could swallow me whole. I let out something that I had intended to be a scream, but it came out… distinctly more wolfish. It was a howl, lined with human anguish, but a howl nonetheless. I had begun to forget who I was, or why I wanted to go home at all. The images of Leah, which had been so vivid in my dream, are fading to little details. I could see her eyes, and the tint of her skin, but I couldn't put it together to form the full image of the woman I loved.

It was like the wolf was mocking my forgetfulness, offering me details but snatching away the places where they connect.

"Let me go, you creature! You demon!" I shouted. My voice came back to me a series of unhappy yips. "I hate you! I know what you are, and I hate you! I want to be human again! I am not a wolf! Leah! Leah, come fine me, I need you, Leah!" There are no words. Barks, howls, yips directed at a dead sky and an empty forest.

I envision myself tearing into… something. Something that had once been alive, bloody and flesh spilling in chunks over what I realized were my own human hands. I try to stop, realizes that I am human again but still behaving like the monstrous Wolf. I can't. I tear continuously, compulsively, into what I realize by it's dark fur is the carcass of my wolf self. I almost paused with the surprise of such a realization, but the compulsion to tear it to pieces is too strong. My strong hands ripped through the wolf, it's innards spilling out onto the forest floor.

And then it's not the wolf anymore that I am tearing into it. It's something grey, something that my fingers pass through far easier than they had through the guts of the wolf.

I realized, then, that I was tearing into my own human brain.

But it was just a hallucination, a madness seeping into me. The gore before me fades as what I had believed were my human hands reverted back into the Wolf's gruesome paws. They were caked in blood. While I had hallucinated, the Wolf had fed.

I was revolted with myself. I vomited up whatever creature the Wolf had devoured while my own consciousness had been preoccupied, and my vision began to spiral away into darkness.

My own mind was tearing itself in two.

When I awoke, I found myself in a clearing flooded with moonlight glistening off new-fallen snow. The first of the year, I thought, and the Wolf body smiled at its beauty. There was a surrealism to the scene, as if they had been superimposed over the gore of my earlier hallucinations and dreams. From the other side of the clearing, I heard the cry of a human child. Immediately, both the Wolf and myself took interest.

As I walked towards the child, I imagined I could hear my own human toes crunching in the snow. When I looked down, I saw I was wrong: still a wolf, covered in blood. I glanced up, and noticed the way the bare branches seemed to form a cage over my head, pricks of starlight glistening through.

The cries are closer and closer. I cannot smell a human child, but I hear it. Before long, I realize that I have come to the mouth of a small den. And then, the cries were no longer human.

It was the yips of a wolf cub. My human instincts warned me away, but the Wolf had long overpowered me in terms of instinct. We went into the den, where the cub's scent was all encompassing. I curled around the cub, and it quieted, staring up at me. I tried to comfort the child, human words coming into my head but coming out as wolfish sounds. Whatever I said, it seemed to work, because the cub did not start up it's crying again. And suddenly, my consciousness was leaving the wolf, falling down into the cub's waiting eyes.

The sensation of falling startles me into wakefulness. The cub had been just another part of the dream, and this time, I felt truly awake for the first time. I was still the wolf, but more self-aware. I climbed to my feet, only to realize that my body was changing once again. I stood higher, fur retracting into my skin as my limbs reformed themselves. This time, there was no pain.

I was human again. And better yet, I recognized the forest around me. My limbs were slow to react, exhausted from my time—days, it had to have been—in that other body. But I knew the way home, and home I went.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All belongs, as usual, to Stephenie Meyer

Author's Note: Sorry for the late update with a rather short chapter! Next one is going to be long and very eventful, I promise.

**Chapter 3: Home is Just a Legend**

I don't remember the details of my arrival home. When I next woke, it was a slow and blearily rising from a deep sleep, facilitated by Leah's voice outside my door, which was slowly rising in pitch and intensity as she argued.

My room was almost too familiar. It was too far a world away from my multiple day ordeal. The walls were white; I had never had time to decorate them. Bed pushed up against a wall. Desk in another corner. Dresser. Lamp. Just Sam's bedroom, which felt wrong, because I was pretty sure that I wasn't _just Sam _ anymore. I had turned into a wolf. _Just Sam_ didn't do things that were impossible.

That was a new thought: It was impossible. Of course it was. As I lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to Leah and my mother arguing outside, that sentiment grew stronger and stronger in me. There was no way. I must've been sick. I had definitely hallucinated part of it, who's to say I hadn't hallucinated the whole thing? This was a reassuring thought, and with it tucked firmly in my head, I turned my attention to the voices outside of my door.

"I swear, Leah, if you know where he's been and aren't telling me I will make sure you never see him again!" That was my mom's voice, I determined, with a worrisome declaration.

I could practically feel Leah's fury radiating through the door. "I don't know where the heck he was! Seth and I even went searching for him, which is more than I can say for you!" Leah's voice was scathing. Good old Leah, Mom had never been able to out-anger her. Her words, though, were slightly stinging, even if they weren't directed at me. _It's not mom's fault she couldn't look for me, she's busy,_ I thought, but without pause, my brain kept going down that path: _Wait. She didn't even try to look for me?_

"How can you not know where he was? How could he have told you nothing?" My mother said, her tone accusatory.

"Because I just don't!"

"He tells you everything!"

"Well, apparently not!" That statement woke me up a bit more. I wasn't the villain. I had done nothing wrong. Why were they mad at me?

"Leah! Tell me the truth! What was he doing? Is he doing drugs? Is that why he was gone?"

I could hear the scorn in Leah's voice when she spoke, "Drugs? Are you kidding me? Sam wouldn't! Just let me see him, okay, maybe he'll tell me or something!"

"You can see him when you tell me what you know!"

"I don't know anything!"

"You do!"

I heard Leah let out an exasperated sigh, and then my mother shriek as my doorknob began to turn. Leah, I assume, has pushed past her. She came into my room with an expression of pure fire, and slammed the door behind her.

"Oh… you're awake," Leah noticed. "Sorry about that. Your mom's a little freaked."

"Don't worry about her," I said, smiling. "I'll handle that, somehow."

Leah smiled at me, and her eyes lit up. It was immeasurably reassuring. "Yeah, well, you better, I think she's on a rampage out there," she laughed as she came to sit on the edge of the bed, beside me. Seemingly by accident, her hand landed upon mine. She did not move it away. "How are you feeling?"

I felt like shit. "Decent," I lied. "Alive."

I watched Leah's face go pale. "Was there a chance you wouldn't be?" I could hear the hesitation and fear in her voice. She was walking on eggshells.

"I honestly have no idea, Leah. I don't even know how long I was gone."

Her hand tightened around mine. "Two weeks," her voice came out a broken whisper. "You were gone for two weeks. How do you... not know that?"

Two weeks. It hit me like a smack. "Really? That long? It… didn't feel like more than a couple of days…"

"What the hell, Sam?" Leah was beginning to get angry. "Where were you?"

"It's complicated."

"It's complicated? What kind of an answer is that?" She bristled. "You went someplace, tell me where."

I shook my head. "Just trust me, okay, Leah?"

"Hell no! I love you, but right now I'm really not too enthusiastic about trusting you."

I sighed and relented slightly. "You wouldn't believe me if I told. Maybe one day."

"Bullshit. That is the biggest cop-out I have ever seen, you asshole. Where have you been?"

"Leah, please…"

"Oh god, don't take that tone. You scared the shit out of me. I've been panicking this entire time. I had the whole family out looking for you. Where have you been?"

Leah rolled her eyes at me, and stood up in a huff. "Well fuck you, then. You and your secrets."

"Leah…" I begged, one last desperate attempt to keep her there. "Come on. I'm sorry. I need you right now."

She must have seen how hard it was for me to admit that, because she didn't leave the room. She didn't come any closer, either.

"Okay. I know something bad happened to you," she murmured. "I can tell that much. So… when it stops hurting so much, will you tell me?'

"I'll try."

Leah sighed and came to sit beside me again. She ran her fingers through my hair, gazing at me. Her eyes were unusually soft, betraying the underlying gentleness that I fell so madly in love with. "Sam… I mean it. If somebody's hurt you…" Tears sprung into my eyes at that. Nearly a grown man, and Leah's love and concern were making me cry. "Really, Sam. Screw the big strong man protecting his girl. I swear, if you've been hurt, I will go after the fucker who did it."

I sat up and wrapped my arms around her, drawing her close to me. She laced her arms around my neck in reply, twining her fingers into my hair. "Hush, Sam, it's alright," she whispered. I realized then that I had begun to cry in earnest. "I'm here now. Wherever you've been, I'm here."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: All things belong to Stephenie Meyer

Author's Note: As promised, a long, and on time chapter (3 am monday morning, in fact!) Enjoy. Leave a review. :)

**Chapter 4: The Secrets of Wolves and Bats**

As soon as I was feeling well enough, I had to go back to the woods. I snuck past my mother, who was keeping me on a tight leash, and fled into the forest. It felt more like home than any blank-walled bedroom. I found a clearing, someplace mossy and familiar and flooded with a rare dappled sunlight, where I stood for what felt like hours, simply breathing in the chilly air.

I tried to go back. I tried to summon that instinct from someplace inside of me, to feel the Wolf's mind battling my own, to watch my hands sprout black fur and change shape. I welcome that pain, but all I get for my effort is a ripple of it down my spine, again and again, with no change.

Was it a fluke, I wondered? A one-time experience of self-discovery that I'll never relive? If so, I hadn't discovered much. If anything, I've learned that I'm nobody at all: just Sam, with his blank-walled room and a few scattered dreams. Or maybe, I figured, I had simply had some sort of fit. Gone mad. There was no wolf, just a hallucination. But if that was true, how could I have survived for two weeks, crazed and alone? The Wolf ate for me, lived for me, while I was consumed with madness. It had to have been real.

There are the old legends, of course, the stories of spirit warriors. We're told, that once upon a time, the men of the Quileute tribe could become wolves. If that wasn't my answer, I would be lost in this forever. Either everything I believed was wrong, and the legends were true, or else I was crazy.

So I tried again. And again. Over and over, I welcomed the Wolf. I spoke to it, coaxing it out of hiding, willing it back into my head so I could prove to myself that I hadn't just hallucinated the whole thing.

And then, finally, as my desperation reached it's pinnacle, the Wolf returned. He tore through me, a growl that began inside of me and howled up through me, rippling outward from my spine in waves of agony, this one distorting my arms, another pushing out my face, a third bringing bristling clumps of black fur. My transformation was fast, that second time, and less chaotic then the first. It made sense. But my paws barely hit the ground before I forced myself to turn back. My clothes, I noticed, had been shredded, and I made a mental note to allow for that in the future. I raced back home and snuck in my window to hide the torn clothes, redress myself, and grab a spare set. And then, without further thought, I raced clear out the door and headed for Billy Black's house. Black is a tribal elder, one who I had always liked and trusted. If he couldn't tell me what was happening to me and why, then nobody could.

It took Billy a few minutes to answer my knock, during which time I stood agitated on his doorstep.

"What can I do for you, Sam?" He asked as the door swung open, looking up at me as he shifted his wheelchair to invite me inside.

I stood my ground on the threshold, "Is anybody else in? Jacob, Rachel, Rebecca?" When Billy shook his head no, I accepted his wordless invitation and entered the house.

"Were you looking for them, Sam?" He asked.

"No, no, I need to talk to you. It's very important," I closed the door resolutely, and began moving the furniture of his living room out of the way. No reason to destroy any of his things.

"What… what are you doing?" I could see him starting to lose faith in me entirely, probably remembering all the rumors he'd heard about my two-week absence. "Stop it, Sam!" He demanded

I paused, took a deep breath and decided I should at least try to explain what had happened first. "So, I'm guessing you know I've been the subject of some rumors lately?"

He nodded, but to his credit, said nothing.

"They're wrong," I said, firmly. "But the truth is much less believable."

"Try me," it almost sounded like a challenge. Nothing surprised Billy. He was the most steadfast person I had ever met, and I had a feeling that would prove invaluable to me.

"The legends about the men who turn into wolves are true," I said, breathless as the weight of such knowledge was lifted from my chest. "You're a tribal elder, so you'd know that better than anyone, but now I know it for real. And you won't believe me, but…"

"I already believe you," Billy interrupts. "I suspected as much when you vanished. My grandfather was like you. Ephraim black. There were others like you, in his time. He was the alpha of a pack."

"A pack? There are others like me?"

"I think you ought to show me before we discuss further," his eyes narrow as he looks me up and down, almost in appraisal.

I nodded, and with a few more kicks to stray bits of furniture to give myself some room, I transformed. Billy sat well back from me, elbows resting on the arms of his wheelchair with his fingers intertwined thoughtfully under his chin. This transformation is less painful than the ones before. There's no emotional panic, no disorientation. The Wolf roars up inside of me as always, but this was just for show.

Billy looked at me with unbelievable sadness. I couldn't place why, but he seemed to pity me with the deepest recesses of his soul. "You make an impressive wolf, Sam Uley. It took you two weeks to turn back the first time?"

I nodded my gargantuan wolf head.

"Turn back," Billy commanded. I obliged, turned back, and quickly redressed myself in the spare clothing I had brought from home, before Billy continued. "Have a seat, Sam. Don't worry about putting the furniture back together just yet. We need to talk first."

There was a commanding presence to Billy that I have never seen before in him, something of the tribal chieftain that runs in his blood. My respect for him was suddenly towering. It left me feeling speechless and small, and he did not wait for me to recover my voice before speaking once again.

"It is believed by most of the tribe that the last Quileutes possessing the ability to transform was in the time of Taha Aki, when the Third Wife sacrificed herself to save the tribe from the Cold One. You know the story?"

I nodded, and before I could make further comment, Billy continued. "That was not the last of the wolf-bodied Spirit Warriors that we have seen. That is because the being that the Third Wife sacrificed herself to destroy was not the only Cold One. Years ago, when my grandfather Ephraim Black was a young man, a family of Cold Ones arrived in Forks. Ephraim found himself in a similar predicament to yours. Others transformed shortly after him, and they formed a pack. They were prepared to fight the Cold Ones, but these were less… malicious then the one our tribe had known. Their leader and Ephraim Black made a truce stating that as long as the Cold Ones bit nobody and did not enter Quileute land, our people would not attack or reveal them to the humans. After the Cold Ones left, no more young men transformed."

"Until me," I said softly. "I haven't… gone mad, then?"

Billy smiled at me for the first time since my arrival. "No, Sam. You haven't gone mad. You've taken your place in the history of our tribe." This was the most reassuring thing anyone had ever said to me. With those few words, Billy Black took an enormous agony away from me. The relief must have shown on my face, because he continued, "This does, however, have grave meanings behind it. If you've transformed, that means that there are Cold Ones in the area again."

"So what should I do?"

"For now, nothing. We'll wait. Maybe these Cold Ones are the same as the ones Ephraim dealt with. That will make things easier. Others may transform, but if these Cold Ones hold to the truce, you should have an easy time of it. Have you told anyone what happened?" He asked.

I shook my head, "No, just you. Leah's going to tear it out of me eventually, though," I smiled at the thought of her concerned rage.

Billy, however, was suddenly stern. "Tell nobody, Sam. It is tribal law. Nobody can know what you have become."

This frightened me, but I nodded. "If… the tribe is in danger, is there anything I can do? Or do we just sit here and wait for an attack?"

He sighed softly, "If you're antsy, drive into Forks. See if anything turns up."

"I'll do that. Thanks, Billy."

He nodded wearily, and I wordlessly put his living room back together before saying my goodbyes and politely taking my leave.

I drove into forks almost immediately. With this new information, where else could I go? The place called to me. The Wolf, dormant but awake, drove me there. I was not disappointed when I arrived. Like any good wolf, I smelled my prey before I saw it. _Prey_ was a term that rose from the wolf, but once it was in my head I could refer to the Cold One as nothing else. Except, perhaps, _enemy_, which seemed only slightly more human a term. This was a relationship that transcended humanity; it was pure, instinctual hatred, born into the Wolf—into me—as clearly as the want of food and air.

The Cold One smelled like sickness. It was both sweet and repulsive, like sugarcoated vomit. It was too clean, too obviously hiding something horrific. I drove slowly toward the scent, and eventually I spotted what must be its origin. There was only one, walking freely under the cover of dark rain clouds. He's a tall blond man in a white lab coat, altogether too pale and revoltingly good-looking.

_KILL IT_

Suddenly, the wolf was roaring up inside of me once again. My hands started to shake. I drove a few more blocks after the man, before the wolf threatened to erupt.

_KILL THE COLD ONE._

It was like a voice inside my head, pounding and insistent, not spoken in words but in flashes of instinct and desire. But the meaning was clear enough to me. It seemed that the Wolf was not content to take my lead.

I slammed the car into park in an alleyway and tumbled out onto the sidewalk, first clinging to the wall and then allowing myself to fall onto my hands and knees. My vision blurred, and then became speckled with blackness, as the wolf's impulses grew stronger and stronger. It had almost overcome me when I reined it in at last.

_You will not control me, Wolf._

I didn't speak out loud. I didn't need to. My resolve to stay human was strong enough, somehow, that I was able to beat the Wolf back.

I drove home slowly after that, my knuckles white against the steering wheel. The Wolf continued, in my head, to scream at me. It threw its terrible thoughts against my skull, images of cold marble flesh and the sensation of that sugary vomit scent searing my nostrils. When I finally got to La Push, the scent had faded, but there was a new abrasion before me: Leah was waiting out in my front lawn.

And then it dawned on me: I was not meant to be driving aimlessly around Forks that day. I was meant to be with Leah. It was supposed to be our first date since my return to health.

"Hello, Sam," she said, as I climbed out of the beat up old car. I could already see her smoldering.

I meant to answer her gently, but my tone came out sounding tired instead. "Hey, Leah," the last think I wanted was her fury.

"You stood me up."

"I had other things on my mind."

"Apologize."

"I'm sorry."

"Apologize for real."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh fuck you, Sam Uley."

I sighed, in no mood to deal with her emotions, and tried to brush past her and go inside. All I wanted was sleep.

But Leah wouldn't stand for it. She grabbed my shoulder and glared at me before I could pass her. "You vanish for two weeks, without a hint of explanation, and now you're avoiding me," she snaps. "What the hell's going on with you, Sam?"

"It's gotten complicated, okay, Leah? It's none of your damn business," I had never snapped at her like that. She was so stunned that she loosened her grip on my shoulder and I was able to push past her, though I do allow myself one glance at her as I shut the door. I could see, even then, in the way she looked at me, that she wasn't sure who I was anymore.

Maybe that was for the better.

I'm a huge asshole to Leah.

Though it was barely evening, I went home and immediately past out, chalking it up to my continuing, half-fictional illness. I slept like the dead, and then woke the next morning to the phone's jarring ring. I answered a bleary hello, before all my sleepiness is vanquished by the faraway voice on the other end.

"Hi, Sam," Leah. At least she didn't sound furious with me, which was an upgrade from the night before. Not that I didn't deserve every bit of her fury and more, looking back.

"Morning," I replied.

"It's almost noon already."

"Sorry," She was quiet for a moment after that, so eventually I speak up again. "Leah?"

"Sorry, I'm here," her voice was soft and regretful, a tone that I was unaccustomed to hearing from her. It was almost painful.

"I really am sorry. I want to see you today."

"No."

To my naïve mind, that answer seemed almost unthinkable. "No? Why not?"

"I think we should take a break."

That was even worse. "Take a break? Leah…"

I thought I heard her voice crack in her reply, "Yeah. We should. I know you're going through a lot, but I can tell I'm not really welcome in it. So… when you pull yourself back together, I'm here."

"I need you," I said. It was the only thing I could think to say that might've kept her.

"I love you, Sam. But you need time to yourself."

"No, I don't. I need _you._"

"I love you," she repeats. But before I could reply, before I could beg her one last time to give me another chance, I heard the telltale click. She had hung up. We were officially on break.

The tears that roll down my cheeks come as no surprise, after that.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: All things belong to Stephanie Meyer.

Author's Note: At last! An update! And with one of my favorite chapters, too. Enjoy! Hopefully chapters will be more regular now, no more long breaks!

**Chapter 5: Frankenstein Mind**

I few days later, I crawled out of my misery and went into Forks again. I drove around only a few minutes when the sugary vomit scent of the Cold Ones found me, a tendril of pure disgust worming in and out of my nostrils. I felt the Wolf rise up in response, slowly this time, like a slothful demon rising from its rest, stretching its limbs in preparation to assault me with it's ferocity. I pulled over as the Wolf ruminated on the scent, preferring to follow the Cold One on foot rather than risk wrecking the car in the wake of the Wolf's churning rage.

It didn't take me long to find the creature. She was a slight young woman, with black, pixie-cut hair and a bouncing step. Even as the human side of my thoughts took in her human appearance, the animal side of me reacted to her animal nature. It slammed into my thoughts like a train, roaring through my awareness with all the fury it could muster.

_KILL IT. DESTROY IT. _

The Wolf's consciousness nearly overcame mine, filling me with images of slaughter, shining white chunks of flesh being torn by my wolf teeth and spilling across the pavement.

_TEAR IT TO PIECES WATCH IT DIE MAKE IT GONE KILL IT._

My vision began to swarm as the Wolf threatened to take control. As much as the scent revolted me, I was in no mood to become a murderer, and so I began the attempt to drag myself back to the car and end the Wolf's attempted coup over my consciousness. My very body seemed to resent me for turning back: my hands itched to sprout claws, my teeth ached to elongate, my legs fought to turn once again and chase after the Cold One.

I finally made it back to the car with a near overwhelming wash of nausea as I sat in the driver's seat. I waited a few moments, resisting the urge to lean out of the car and throw up, as the Wolf's mind began to retreat, the tempest of carnage assaulting my inner eye calming to an unhappy bubble in the back of my mind.

As soon as my control returned, I started the car and drove mindlessly back to La Push. I let myself wander, my eyes focused on the road but my mind elsewhere. Instead of going home, thoughtless, I drove to Leah's house. I snapped into wakefulness as I found myself parking the car before her house.

_Great_, I thought. _Now I can't even control myself when the Wolf isn't around._

I sat there, in front of her driveway, for a time, trying to piece together what instinct had brought me here. She didn't want to see me.

But I wanted her comfort. Leah was, in the end, the only thing that really made sense: she was steadfast and determined, loving as she was fierce. I needed her.

But she didn't want me. The thought was like an infection inside of me, threatening my autonomy even as the Wolf did. I wanted her to know. I needed her trust back, needed to be able to hold her and know that somehow my life would make sense again one day, and that we could continue about the life we had planned.

But it wasn't. I was a creature out of legend, a beast she could never know of. It was over. Forever.

Nonetheless, I honked, on the dim possibility she might hear it and see me. True to my imagining and my fear, she appeared at the window of her room, a face that quickly paled at the sight of me. A hand appeared on her shoulder, and Leah turned to talk to the hidden second person. The hand retreated, and Leah turned back to look at me, our eyes locked but conveying nothing. I ached for her, a literal feeling of pressure in my chest, like a hand had gathered up my heart and my through in one fistful, crushing me.

I was distracted from my fixation by a tap at the window. A girl, presumably the same one who had put her hand on Leah's shoulder, was glaring at me. I recognized her after a moment as a cousin of Leah's: Emily.

In the few seconds between seeing her face and rolling down the car window to speak with her, something changed. The scent of her overwhelmed me, like almond and primrose. She seemed perfectly formed, carrying herself with an infinite grace, her face a picture of perfect symmetry. All at once, suddenly, Leah seemed harpy-like and stern in comparison. The thought made my heart twist. I didn't want to think that about Leah, I loved Leah! But even glaring at me with all the fury in the world, Emily was somehow… perfect. The Wolf was exploding inside of me, panicking as it tried to control me again towards some untold end.

Somewhere in the distance, she was lecturing me.

"Leah told you she doesn't want to see you, and she meant it. I don't know what your problem is,but you're not welcome here," she said.

I barely heard it. My whole world had suddenly shifted again. Somehow, the Wolf had reared its head yet again, and it was infatuated with Emily Young.

Halfway through her lecture, I couldn't take it anymore: I slammed on the gas and sped away, breathing hard with a panic rising in my throat. What was wrong with me? I didn't even know Emily! But something inside me, something that I knew had to be the doing of the Wolf, was making me forget Leah in the wake of simply the sight of Emily's face.

Inside me, the Wolf gave what felt like a growl of satisfaction.

When I slept that night, my dreams were frightening again, with the same sort of horrifying feel as the visions that haunted me in the forest, the first time I transformed. This time, it was of history: I dreamed of the great pack of wolves chasing a shining figure between towering trees. I saw the splash of blood, jarring red against a grey ground, as the third wife made her sacrifice. I was Taha Aki, and then Ephraim black, and then I was just the mindless Wolf, succumbed to the blackness pulsating beneath every thought in my consciousness. I dreamed of the nothingness that came when the Wolf took over. Emily's face appeared again and again, in flashes, imaginings of all the expressions her face could form, with features ever perfectly aligned.

When I woke, it was into disorientation. I forgot, for a moment, who I was: it was all simply a jumble of consciousness, of my wolf ancestors, and of the Wolf's fury roaring in the back of my head.

It was morning, but the sunlight was somehow pale and far away. I was losing myself. I was terrified. I was supposed to be returning to school that day, but I didn't really trust myself to face it. Running away was easier. Why go to school? My life was over. I was a monster, and possibly a crazy one at that.

I got up, dressed, and slipped out of the house. It probably wasn't going to help any with the already enormous tension between my Mom and I, but I wasn't willing to deal with her questionings just then.

I drove, once again, to Billy Black's house, desperate to find some sense in what I had become. He answered the door when I arrived, his face knitted with concern. "Weren't you supposed to be going back to school today?" he asked. It wasn't exactly the first words I was hoping to hear, but it was… refreshingly fatherly.

Of course, that had to be the first question. I shrugged and looked away. "I don't think I'm ready for it. Can I come in?"

He nodded, and wheeled out of the doorway to let me pass. "What's on your mind, Sam?"

"There's something weird going on," I said, sitting on the living room's plush green couch. It was leather, old and worn, and somehow extremely comforting.

Billy gave me a wry smile, "I think you have a lot of weird going on at the moment, all things considered,"

I actually laughed, at that. It was just true enough to be funny. "Well, yes. But this is a whole new kind of weird," I took a deep breath, growing serious again. "I'm… losing track of who I am," I said, softly. Billy just looked at me, waiting as I hesitated. "It's like, whenever the Wolf comes, I just… it's not me. It's something else that's trying to control me and I don't know what to do. The more I resist it, the more it fights me," I ran my fingers over the arm of the couch, trying to focus on anything but what I was saying.

"I'm afraid I'm going to lose control and hurt somebody. I'm having dreams, too, where I'm the Wolf or the Wolf is eating me or I'm Taha Aki or Ephraim Black or some other, unknown shifter. I woke up this morning and I didn't know who I was. I went to Leah's house yesterday, and her cousin Emily was there, and the minute I saw Emily the Wolf… Freaked out. It was ready to tear me in half then and there. I don't know what it wanted. Not to hurt her, I think, but… it wanted something. I really am losing it. There's all these thoughts and emotions and memories in my head, but they aren't mine, they aren't me,

"It's like I have this Frankenstein mind, all stitched together from different people. And the Wolf," I took a breath, finally, and then stopped, staring at the floor like a traumatized child. I was, in many ways, just that: shell-shocked, alone, and frightened.

Billy was frowning at me, his chin resting on his hand, concerned. "I don't think you're losing it, Sam. Not for a minute. You've got… a lot to figure out. I don't blame you for being… afraid. Now, tell me more about what happened when you saw… Emily."

I nodded, looking briefly at him and then averting my eyes again. "I don't really know how to describe it. The Wolf… it was like it was clawing at the inside of my chest, but it didn't mean her any harm. I don't know what it wanted. But it didn't just affect the Wolf. It was like…. Like I couldn't stop looking at her, like my whole center of gravity had shifted and she was all that mattered. It sounds… moronic. I don't even know her. It's some stupid stunt the Wolf is pulling. Must be."

"I don't think so, Sam," Billy said, his tone suddenly stern. "I… have heard of that. In legends of men like you."

I looked at him, finally, my fear only worsened by his words.

"It's called imprinting. It doesn't seem to happen to all shifters, only a…. lucky few. It's when… when a wolf sees the woman meant to be his mate, to put it simply. Nobody can quite explain it, but—"

"Excuse me?" I interrupted, "Emily is supposed to be my _mate_? I don't know her!"

"It's… it's a wolf thing," Billy said. Even he seemed to know it sounded like a weak excuse.

"A wolf thing? And I'm just supposed to take that? This is ridiculous! I'm not an… animal! And neither is she!"

"It's just how it is, Sam. It's always been like this."

"And I'm just supposed to take it? I don't know her! There's not going to be any… mating!"

"It's more than just mating, Sam. An imprint is supposed to be… something like a soul mate."

"That's fucking ridiculous!" I slammed my hand down on the couch and balled it into a fist. "There's no such damn thing! I'm supposed to love her? No way in hell! I love _Leah_!"

"Do you really, though?" Billy said, raising his voice at me. "Do you? Think about it, Sam. When you saw Emily, did you not see more than you ever saw in Leah?"

"Don't you… say that about her!" I snapped, "I… Emily is nobody! The Wolf thinks it wants to have sex with her, that has nothing to do with me, or with whom I love. I love Leah! That's not me!"

"Say what you will, Sam. You'll have to come to terms with it eventually. With all of this. You can't act like the wolf is some second form within you. It's all you. You just happen to change shape. You've got to accept it as part of you. You wont be at peace until you do!"

"Screw that peace! I want my life back! I want to be me, not some… freakish, dual-personality monster."

"If that's what you think of yourself, Sam, then that's exactly what you are," Billy said, obviously growing weary of my raging. "You may think you've lost it, but you are in complete control of who and what you are. As soon as you remember that, you'll be able to deal with this."

I left. I gave him no reply, simply got up and left, purposefully slamming the door behind my like a toddler in the thick of a tantrum. I didn't even know where I was going—I just ran, praying to God I could escape myself.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: All things belong to Stephanie Meyer.

Author's note: Sorry for the wait! This chapter is extra long and eventful, though :) Enjoy and leave a review!

**Chapter 6: Imprint**

As soon as I left Billy's house, I ran for the forest, seeking the oppressive blackness granted by the Wolf. I ached for it, longing to let the Wolf have it's way and take control. I didn't want to exist anymore.

It was easier, then, to be the Wolf. It's desires were eating at my humanity. My life was over, anyway, I figured. If the wolf was going to define my human life, then let the Wolf be all that there was.

When I reached the forest, I let the Wolf roar up inside me, clawing up my spine to clamp it's iron jaws upon my mind. When my transformation was complete, I started running. My feet—paws—itched for motion. I was such a mess I couldn't even stand still.

And then, with paws thudding against the cushions of rotting leaves beneath, I waited for the blackness. My movement became instinct, chasing scents like ghosts through the shadows. Still, I waited for the blackness. It would not come.

I could not force my mind to be anything but my own. The Wolf was there, certainly, but it was merely a hungry murmur in the back of my thoughts.

Of course, I bitterly thought, the one time I longed for that empty insanity, it would not come. Was this some new symptom of my encroaching madness?

With the Wolf a subdued presence, something else took forefront in my thoughts: Emily. Her face lingered at the back of my eyes, all the pink-lipped scowls she'd given me, dark brown almond-shaped eyes glaring at me, unblemished cocoa brow furrowed in suspicion. I tried to force her face out of my consciousness. When that failed, I attempted to transform it instead: If a face had to haunt me, it would be Leah's, not some girl beloved of the Wolf. Some girl who probably hated me. I was surprised by how hard that realization hit me: of course, Emily would hate me! I must've looked a monster to her, cutting off Leah and keeping secrets. The face turned back into Emily's.

Then, again, she was right. Even in that moment, I was coming to terms with my new state of monstrosity. It wasn't just the Wolf: I was doing awful things, shunning all those who cared for me.

The Wolf wasn't an entity I could disentangle myself from, I realized. Its effects were creeping more and more into my human life. I felt like a hazy, vague excuse for a human: I was shapeless. I had no goals, no ideals, and not even much desire to exist as a human. Better to let the Wolf have control. Of course, when I had finally come to terms with that idea, it wasn't happening. Just my luck.

I stayed in Wolf form all night, sleeping in the forest despite the human logic that told me what a stupid idea that was. Staying away another night would only make things work, but I wasn't capable of facing humanity that night.

I came home the next morning, dressed in the spare clothes I had taken to leaving in the forest after my early transformations. My mom was waiting for me, all scowls and fury.

"Where have you been?" She confronted as I entered.

"A friend's," I lied.

My mother's frown deepened. "I thought you were going back to school yesterday,"

I winced. I had completely forgotten about school. I hadn't been in ages, nearly a month with all the time I had been missing.

"I… didn't feel ready," That was the truth, at least, if framed as a lame excuse. I ached to tell her the truth: that I was suffering, and that I feared the loss of my sanity. Going to school and acting like a normal human being was simply no longer an option. But instead, I had to lie, and alienate her even further.

"What were you doing at this friend's house, then?" She asked, her tone accusatory.

I glared at her, catching the obvious implication. "Not drugs. I'm not doing drugs, Mom."

"What are you doing, then?" she challenged. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Sam Uley? What happened?"

"Nothing," I evaded, trying to figure out how to make my way past her up to my room.

"Sam, if you'd just tell me what's wrong, we could you get help!" She pleaded, switching tactics. "You're not making any sense."

I sighed softly, "I'll go to school on Monday, mom. I promised," Even as I said it, I was fairly sure I wasn't going to be able to keep that promise. But it just slipped out. It was an easy way to placate her, so I could return to my misery. I didn't want to lie to my mind, but at the moment it was all I could do to keep myself in one piece. I was coming dangerously close to coming apart right in front of her, confronted as I was with her rage and pain.

Of course, she faltered. My mom wasn't a fighter. She was quiet and vulnerable and simply wanted my reassurance. So I offered it, hollow though it was. It would do. "Alright, then," she quietly replied. "If you say so, Sam."

"Thanks, Mom," I replied. "…Love you," I added as a mumbled afterthought while I slipped by her towards the stairs.

"You should call Leah," she called after me. "She's been trying to reach you!"

I frowned, surprised. That was… unexpected. "Alright, thanks. I will."

Once I had taken a moment to gather my thoughts, I picked up the phone and called Leah, unsure of my intentions. It barely finished the first ring before she picked up. The sudden sound of her voice left me speechless for a moment, and so when she first asked, "Hello?" I could only sit temporarily in stunned silence. "Hello?" She asked, again.

"Hey, Leah," I said, my voice unintentionally dry and distant.

"Sam!" In comparison, hers was warm and relieved.

"You called me?"

"Yeah, I did. I wanted to talk to you," she sounded proud of herself. Classic Leah.

I answered, "Alright. That's good. We should… talk,"

"That all you can come up with, Sam? You sound pathetic," she laughed, as if our usual banter was somehow applicable here. It felt like Leah was light-years away.

"Yeah," I lamely replied.

She seemed to catch my distress, and said, "Listen, Sam. I'm sorry about what I said before. I shouldn't have abandoned you like that, even though I don't know what's going on with you and I'm slightly furious."

"Um, apology accepted, I guess?"

"I want you to come over today," she sounded worried. "I want to see you. Besides, you need to meet Emily for real."

For whatever reason, her words struck a chord of panic in me. "I can't," I quickly deflected. Before she could push the point, I hung up.

I lay back on my bed, staring at the blank ceiling. My room felt empty. I really hadn't ever put effort into making it my own, all those years of being myself, and I was starting to regret that as I began to lose track of my identity.

I sat up again, and then stood, restless. I paced back and forth across the room, counting strides and letting my mind wander as the Wolf marinated in it's own thoughts in the back of my head. Did the Wolf think, I wonder? Was the Wolf aware? Or was it just pure, blood-driven instinct?

Time and time again, as I journeyed across my impersonal bedroom, my mind flickered back to that face. Emily. What did her smile look like, I wondered? Her laugh? What scents reminded her of childhood? What did she want to do with her life? I was desperate to know her. It didn't even feel like the Wolf's desires: I wanted to know everything that made her human. I was drawn as if by magnetism to the idea of seeing her again.

Finally, nearly an hour after hanging up on Leah, I gave in. I was too embarrassed to call her again, so I simply got in the car and started driving, half hoping she'd have gone out and I could be spared the whole humiliation.

Unfortunately, my luck had been awful of late and felt no need to take a turn for the better. Leah came to the door almost as soon as I knocked.

"Oh… Sam," she said, sounding resentful of me yet again. "I thought you weren't coming."

I shrugged, "I changed my mind."

"Okay, then," Leah smiled. I had to give her credit for how quickly she put her resentment aside for me. "Come in."

I did as she said, smiling hesitantly back at her.

"Are you okay?" She asked, reaching up to cup my cheek in her hand. "You look exhausted…" For all her fury, Leah could be heart wrenchingly tender when she was worried. And as angry with me as she obviously was, I appreciated her putting it aside in favor of caring for me when I needed her. "I've been thinking about the stuff I said earlier. I'm still kinda ticked at you, but hey, I've only got one Sam."

"Thanks, Leah," I replied, laughing slightly. "I'm all right. I'm going back to school Monday," there came that lie again. Two lies, actually, both of which I was sure to regret. I just wanted a moment of quiet, and that required quelling Leah's anger.

"Are you ready to… tell me what's going on?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Leah sighed and relented. She may be fierce, but I am stubborn. "Alright, then, as long as you're still you, I said I loved you and I still do, whatever this all is aside."

"Thanks, Leah," I smiled at her.

She grinned, a familiar and comforting sight, slipping her hand into mine and rising up on her toes to kiss me. She was still smiling when we parted. "You're welcome. Come on, I want you to meet Emily for real," she said, dragging me by the hand into her room, where Emily had obviously been waiting to let us talk.

There it was. Her smile. Emily Young was smiling at me. My heart threatened to explode.

"Hi, Sam. Nice to meet you," She said, taking obvious pains to be extra polite. Apparently, Leah had changed her public opinion of me.

"Hey," I replied. Emily was captivating.

"We should hang out outside," Leah interrupted, tugging at my hand again. I had forgotten she still held it. "It's sunny, for once, and still kinda warm!"

So we went outside. I stayed there for most of the afternoon, Leah and Emily chatting around me. Occasionally, Leah made an effort to bring me into the conversation, but I had little to say and mostly kept silent. It was good to be there, at least. It almost would have felt normal, if I hadn't been so captivated by Emily. I tried not to look at her, but more and more I found my eyes wandering. I found myself entangled in the curve of her eyelashes when she blinked, and lost in the corners of her mouth when she laughed.

As evening came upon our odd little gathering, I realized that Leah had noticed my eyes landing unfailingly upon Emily. And when Emily excused herself with the excuse of having to call her parents, I found myself dangerously alone with Leah.

"So, uh, how long is Emily going to be around?" I asked. I was just fishing for a question to end the oppressive air of awkward suddenly cocooning us. Of course, the first thing that came to my mind had to be about Emily.

Leah shrugged. "There's some bad stuff going on at the Makah rez, apparently, and she wanted out. Gang activity or something. So I don't know, probably a while."

"Ah," I lamely replied.

"You've barely looked at me all evening, Sam," she said, her voice taking on a dangerously quiet tone.

"Sorry. It's been a long week, I'm just distracted."

"By Emily, apparently," she snapped, her voice turning suddenly accusatory. There was a telling tang of jealousy, too.

"That's not true, Leah," I lied.

Leah seemed to soften, but I knew her better than that. She was just getting ready to manipulate me, some how. "Sam…" she murmured, staring up at me with hurt doe eyes. "I'm just worried about you. You know I'll always stick by you," a small, unhappy part of me wanted to laugh at that, given how quickly she had declared us 'on break'. "But honestly, your secrets are killing me."

My heart ached for her. My secrets were destroying me, too. I would've torn myself inside out just to have things go back to normal.

I couldn't do it for her. What kind of monster was I, anyway, stringing her along like this? I stared at her a long moment, struggling. With all the Wolf's obsession with Emily—an obsession that I was inadvertently taking on in full—I loved Leah. All her ferocity only endeared her more to me.

It wasn't fair. Whatever we had had, it was over. How could I bring her with me into a ruined future? What I was hiding from her would never come to light. I would never get better. I knew I was on the edge of a cliff, and I was only going to pull her down with me.

Besides, apparently, this Emily issue just wasn't going to go away.

"I'm sorry, Leah," I said, softly. I took her hand and squeezed it, but already it felt like a lie. "I love you."

She shifted close to me, resting her head on my shoulder. "I love you too, Sam," she whispered. "And I miss you. When are you going to come back to me, for real? I'm sick of all this weirdness."

"I don't know if I ever can."

"You have to. Remember, all the futures we had planned?"

"I don't know if those futures can happen anymore."

Leah sat up to look at me, taking both my hands in her own. "What are you talking about?"

I leaned forward and kissed her again, one last time. I had imprinted on Emily, but a part of me would always love Leah. "I don't want to do this to you anymore," I said, touching my forehead to hers.

"What are you talking about?" she asked again, sounding suddenly frantic.

"We can't be together anymore."

She pulled away from me, her eyes widening. "Sam, I didn't… I just…"

"Leah, you're right. I am carrying some very heavy secrets. And I can't ever share them with you," I said. I imagined I could hear her heart breaking. I know I heard my own. "So I don't want to string you along. My whole world… is different now. And it's not going back."

"Why can't this new world include me?" She asked, desperate. "Whatever it is, Sam…"

"No," I interrupted, getting up. "This is nothing you can fix or learn to accept."

"Yes I can! Sam, you know me, I'm sure I'll figure out something!"

"No," I repeated. "It's not possible," she stared at me, too vulnerable to conjure up her usual fiery demeanor. "I'm sorry, Leah. This isn't because I don't love you. I do. You're… perfect. I'd give everything to be able to make us go on like we always have," my voice began to falter, but I couldn't let her blame herself for the way things had turned out. "I just can't. I'm too much of a mess and I can't drag you into it."

"Sam…" she whimpered, trying to summon a new method of entreating me to stay.

"I'm sorry," I said, turning away.

"Sam!" She cried after me, the fury beginning to rise into her voice. No matter how hard I tried, I knew she'd hate me after this. I knew I was hurting her, maybe worse by trying to tell her I loved her at the same time. And I was only going to hurt her worse in the future.

But I had come to expect that of myself. I was a true monster, after all.

I hated myself.

I went around the house and got back into the car, starting it up and beginning my drive home. I realized, after a moment, that I was shaking slightly, sobs threatening to appear. I suppressed them. Breaking up with Leah would be better in the long run, I told myself. Trying to keep her longer would only hurt her more. I wasn't sure if I was doing the right thing or not. Either way, she would be hurt.

The imprint she had left on my life was massive, and beautiful. Second to somehow making it all go back to normal, leaving her was the best thing I could do. My secrets would only have killed her.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: All things belong to Stephenie Meyer.

**Chapter 7: Emily's Hate**

I spent the next month numb. I went back to school, eventually, and did my best to ignore those who had been my friends. It didn't take long for them to give up on me. I wasn't so oblivious, however, that I didn't notice Emily. It seems whatever the trouble on the Makah rez was hadn't changed, because she had transferred to my school. Both she and Leah were in my English class. Luckily, it was the only class I had with either one of them, so I simply stopped attending. I started failing before long, but what did that matter? I had no future. As the rest of my grades began to slip, and rain turned to snow, my prospects grew dimmer and dimmer. At the beginning of the year, I had been an honor student, in line to receive a generous scholarship and go onto university. By the time people had taken down their Christmas lights, my scholarship was gone and I wasn't planning on going to college at all. There was nothing logical to how much I had given up—I had simply lost the knack of living. I was perfectly okay with being nothing, amounting to nothing, and giving into the Wolf until it's omnipresent consciousness decided it had had enough and took over.

That's what I was waiting for. I wanted the Wolf to take control. I never consciously transformed in those months, but at times I would find myself yearning for the sanctuary of the forest, where I would invariably give into the blackness in the hopes that I, Sam Uley, would never return. I wanted to give the Wolf its freedom and power over my identity. Eventually, however, I would always reawaken as myself.

And then, there were the Cold Ones. I came to sense them constantly, always aware of that revolting, candied vomit scent in my nostrils. They pressed in around me, and when it wasn't that revulsion dominating my thoughts, it was Emily. Emily, Emily, Emily, it was always Emily! I imagined her smile, the way it looked in her eyes, the exact shade of her skin in the waning light, the sway of her hips when she walked away… I was entranced and enraptured by a girl I barely knew. But after a while, I noticed that Emily was looking back. At first, it was with scorn. She would glare at me if she caught me looking her way, and move protectively toward Leah, who, as far as I could tell, was ignoring me all together. I told myself I deserved it; I had come to hate myself almost as much as I hated the Wolf.

As the weeks dragged me painfully on into winter, lingering in my most miserable moments, something began to change. I noticed Emily's glares soften. For the first time, I noted a new expression. It was a sort tightening of her eyebrows, and the formation of a furrow upon her brow. I was so out of touch with humanity that it took days for me to figure out just what the look meant.

Emily Young was worried about me.

That was what the look was. It was concern. Fear, even. And I could see why: after I figured out her expression, I went home, stood in front of the mirror, and took a good look at myself. I could see why she was worried: I was disturbingly pale, particularly for the rez. My cheeks had grown sunken. I had lost a frightening amount of weight. The worst thing was to look myself in the eye: I looked dead. There was no other way to describe it. But I wasn't really worried. I looked about as far gone as I was. So I made no action in response to Emily's looks: I simply went on existing as I had.

Apparently, however, Emily's concern was far from idle. I had started spending English class in a decrepit sports field behind the school, where twig-like weeds shot up between the drifts of snow and ice that had gathered as the winter wore on, and that was where Emily cornered me.

"Sam!" she called, trudging across the field from the school's back door. I stood near the middle of the field, on my way into the forests beyond, when I heard her voice. I was of half a mind to just keep walking, but Emily froze me. It was the first time she had spoke to me since that day at Leah's house, and I realized for the first time how wonderful her voice was: she had the loveliest tone, a sort of ring full of force and fire. It was different than Leah's fire, though. There was more conviction to Emily's voice. Even just saying my name, she sounded like a woman with a cause. The Wolf told me to turn and face her, so I did.

My throat felt like it was full of rocks, but I swallowed, and said, "Hey, Emily," my voice sounded dry and quieter than usual, which I figured to be a symptom of disuse. "What're you doing here?"

"I followed you," Emily proclaimed, sounding immensely proud of herself.

"Shouldn't you be in English?"

Emily shot back, "Shouldn't you?"

"I'm not in your English class."

"Liar. We can see this field from the window. Leah's watched you walk across it every day."

"Fuck. She's watching me?" I replied, alarmed. "Why?"

"Why do you think, Sam Uley?"

"I don't know."

"Bullshit. You know Leah better than anyone except maybe me. You love her."

"Loved," I corrected, stone-faced.

Emily rolled her eyes at me, exasperated. Something in my was satisfied—maybe if I could get Emily to hate me, the Wolf would give up. At the same time, something told me it would never work that way. "Well, either way, that's not what I'm here to argue about," she snapped. "Frankly, it's your business if you love Leah or not. For the record, she loves you, and you've hurt her _really_ bad."

I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable in the spotlight of her glare, and remained silent. She waited a moment, looking at me with that special fury of hers, and then continued when she realized I had no intention of replying. "Okay. I get it. That's none of my business if you want to dump your girlfriend. Whatever. Point is, despite the fact that you are obviously a huge asshole," Emily paused, and I felt wronged. It wasn't my fault! And then I felt the wolf's rage rising up inside of me, burning me for the first time in months. I didn't deserve her hate, I thought. It wasn't my fault. It was all because the Wolf loved her, loved this righteous and furious girl standing before me with her eyes burrowing into my heart.

While I fought with my self, struggling to keep the Wolf down, Emily continued. "…And despite the fact that you don't deserve even a quarter of the sympathy you're getting from her, Leah's worried about you. And of course, as you well know, she's too proud to admit it. So I'm here to make you talk to her."

"No," I abruptly responded, too busy trying to put an end to the Wolf's sudden uprising to formulate a more tactile answer. I wasn't used to having to keep it down so actively. During the past months, it had been largely dormant without direct confrontation with Emily or any Cold Ones.

Emily glared at me again, fiercer still. Once again, I felt wronged.

None of this was my damn fault.

"Why not?" she challenged. "If you didn't still love her, you wouldn't be so miserable."

"Trust me, Emily, there's a lot more making me miserable than not being with Leah," I snapped, and then softened: "…Alright, that's part of it. But I can't change anything. It has to be this way."

"So you love her."

"No I don't," I couldn't quite tell if I was lying or not. It was all so damn _confusing_. Emily's hate only made me like her more. I was falling for her for the same reasons I fell for Leah. Or rather, the Wolf was. I still wanted nothing to do with her. I wanted Leah.

It all felt like a lie. When the human of me thought he told the truth, the Wolf said he lied. When the Wolf felt something, the human called it a lie. It left me befuddled and speechless.

"Then why did you leave her?"

The question stung, and I was losing control. "Because she can't be a part of my life! And neither can you," I said, my tone suddenly bitter.

Emily was relentless. "Why not?"

"I just can't!" My voice was louder than I intended, and considerably more upset. I had been hoping to hide that particular emotion.

"Answer the question, Sam," Emily, by contrast, was colder than ever.

"I just can't be with her. I don't want to hurt her any more! I'm doing this _for_ her! I'm protecting her!"

"Oh come on," she challenged. "That is possibly the lamest reason I have ever heard. You're not living in a shitty romance novel; give me a real answer. I am getting seriously sick of all this _angst. _You're _pathetic_,_" _she drew out each sound of the final word, as if savoring it.

I took a step back, shocked by the intensity of her words. This was no idle confrontation—Emily truly hated me. The Wolf was a seething mess of emotions. "Yeah, I am," I snapped in return, "You said yourself I'm a mess. You're right. You're completely right. But you don't even have the tiniest fucking _glimmer_ of what's going on," for all my fury, I could hear my voice begin to falter, and then finally break. "I can't help any of this, Emily," I sounded desperate. "And no matter how much I love her, it's really, really complicated right now, and I don't want her hurt while I'm figuring it all out."

"So you do love her," Emily murmured. I had expected another challenge, but her voice was soft and careful.

"Yes. No. It's complicated."

"Right," Emily sighed, "I got that. What a pathetic sort of guy you are," she murmured. "I honestly feel bad for you."

"Um... thanks?"

Emily sighed softly again, "Okay. So you can't tell anybody what's going on, and thus you have completely isolated yourself from everybody who loves you."

"Yeah, that's pretty much the plan."

"Stop."

"No way in hell," I snapped. The wolf balked-it didn't want me to be nasty with Emily.

Emily sighed and rolled her eyes at me, "Fine. Wallow in your misery, then," she said, her tone brisk and cold. And then she smiled at me, like even though she was leaving me alone for the moment, she had still won a victory.

It was infuriating. Not only had I let her glimpse what was going on in me with that outburst, but she also somehow felt like she had won something over me. I hated it, that superior attitude, like she, barely more than a stranger, could somehow fix things. And she couldn't let Leah know any of this, that would ruin everything.

Even more infuriating was how much the Wolf loved that smile.

"Wait, Emily!" I called after her. She stopped, but didn't turn to face me again. "Don't tell Leah any of this conversation. She can't know any of this. The... protecting, the still loving... none of it. Please."

Emily shrugged and flipped a thick lock of hair over her shoulder in the most obnoxious manner imaginable. "Fine. You owe me one, though." She strode off across the field and back into the school.

I turned around and fled into the woods.

It was several days before I saw Emily again for more than a flash. She appeared outside my house, gained entrance from my mother under the guise of friendship, and forced conversation upon me yet again as we stood several awkward yards away from each other in my backyard.

I glared at her. "Did Leah send you to take pity on me?" I asked, obviously bitter.

"No, Sam," she snapped. "I came here on my own volition." Her returned glare was just as intense.

"Why?"

She rolled her eyes at me, "Why do you think? I wanted to talk to you."

"That's a stupid reason."

"Too bad."

"Talk, then."

Emily stared at me for a long moment, and I watched her force a softness over her infuriated eyes. She was remarkably good at that, I noticed. "So, I'm basically assuming from our few conversations that, for whatever reason, you hate me," she said.

"I don't hate you," I said, automatically. That had not been the answer I wanted to give.

Emily looked slightly surprised, but went on unfazed. "Well, either way, you don't much care for me or my well being," she looked towards me, awaiting a reply. When my silence gave her neither agreement nor dissent, she continued, "At least, you don't have any sort of stake in protecting me."

I grunted in reply, and she sighed. "You're being very difficult, Sam." Her voice was very carefully controlled.

"It's my specialty."

That won me another glare, but she continued without a change in ton. "Well, either way, for the sake of my best friend and out of the goodness of my heart, I've decided that I want to help you out."

"And how do you propose to do that?" I snapped.

"Well, you could use a friend who has no stake in whatever craziness you're going through, at least," she perkily offered.

She was wrong about the first part. Right about the second, but it wasn't going to happen. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"Just no. Get out of my yard."

"What? Are you kidding me?" She looked flabbergasted and insulted. "I came here to offer you my help and you're kicking me out?"

"Yep," the Wolf was freaking out again, transformation threatening. I needed to get her to leave.

"You're an asshole," she scoffed.

"Yep, now leave," I replied. She glared at me and began to turn back towards the house. As soon as she was gone, I raced towards the forest, eager to let the Wolf have it's control.

But only seconds after my transformation, I heard my name.

"Sam?" Emily called, standing in the yard and peering after me into the darkness. She had been gone during my transformation, but if she saw me now...

I froze, following her eyes as she examined the treeline, and called my name again. I started backing up, hoping to get far away from Emily before she could notice the freakishly large black Wolf lurking in the trees behind a normally animal-free backyard. But distracted by her presence, I had lost the Wolf's silence, and twig's broke beneath my weight. Mentally, I cursed, and then: she was looking right at me.

_She had seen the Wolf._

Panicked, I whirled around and took off into the forest.

_Shit._


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: All belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter was so delayed, I've been super busy. But here it is, the longest chapter yet! Enjoy, and please review! I'd really appreciate it :)

**Chapter 8: The Spreading of Sam's Madness**

The next day, I was approached by Jacob Black. He appeared at my door with suspicious, hateful eyes that immediately made me feel wronged and hostile. I barely knew Jacob-he was just some kid to me, Billy's son, a person who I knew vaguely, and probably the last person I expected to turn up at my front door. He also wasn't somebody who would have reason to hate me, and this, at first, was confusing and slightly hurtful.

"My father wants to talk to you," he said, his voice firm. "You need to come with me. Now."

It was hard for me to take orders from Jacob Black. He was positively scrawny, for starters, particularly compared to me, particularly given my recent Wolf-related growth spurt. I was fairly sure he was no more than sixteen, but I couldn't say for certain. Either way, he was young. It was almost brave of him to try and order me around like that.

But if the orders came from Billy, I couldn't refuse. He hadn't bothered to greet me before giving his commands, so I treated him similarly: "Fine, then. Let me get my car keys."

"No," Jacob interrupted as I turned away. "I'm driving."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Aren't you a little young for that?"

"Whatever," he replied, full of a youthful scorn. "Come on."

It occurred to me that he probably didn't trust me to drive. I was considered crazy at best, after all.

Jacob drove in silence. I stared at the window, feeling deeply uncomfortable as the rain beat against the glass. I wondered what Jacob thought of me. It didn't matter, I told my self, but still... Jacob's mistrust was a reflection of the way the whole rez thought of me. Crazy at best, a degenerate and an addict at worst-or at least, that was the worst rumor I had heard. Who knew what else was floating around about me. The weight of his silence lay suddenly heavy across my shoulders: in it, I felt the mistrust of everyone I knew; it left with a striking feeling of isolation. I yearned for... something. Somebody.

I scolded myself for such pathetic thoughts, and forced myself to stare blankly out the window for the rest of the ride.

When we arrived at Billy Black's house, Jacob immediately got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. By the time I had even opened my door, he was already storming towards the house. I followed languidly behind, such that by the time I reached the door, it had already closed in his wake. By the time I was inside, he had vanished from sight.

Billy was waiting for me in the living room, a carefully controlled smile on his face, his hands folded in his lap. "It's good to see you, Sam," he said.

"You too," I grunted, sitting down in my customary place on his green couch. "Is there a reason you needed me so urgently?"

"No need to be rude," he replied, but his smile became slightly more real even as he said it. "Have you been, ah... working on the little problem we discussed last time you were here?"

"Emily isn't a little problem," I snapped. I was beginning to lose my ability to have rational, normal conversations, it seemed. Billy raised an eyebrow, but seemed otherwise unfazed.

His tone, however, turned abrasive. "She's reported a giant black beast in the woods," he said, sternly. "So I'm going to ask you outright. Is there any way she could have seen you, Sam?"

I hesitated. "Yeah. I think she saw me by accident."

"And given that she felt the need to report a monster in the forest, I'm guessing she doesn't know."

"She doesn't know anything. We've barely talked."

Billy glared at me. I averted my eyes. "Are you dealing with this at all, Sam?" he challenged. I replied with silence, but he didn't seem to need an answer. "No, you aren't. You're running away. Don't think I haven't noticed, haven't heard. I talk to your mother. You barely go to school, and when you do, you act like a zombie. Have you been turning often?"

"...No. When Emily saw me was the first time in months."

"So you're running from her _and_ yourself."

His words stung miserably. I half expected myself to fly into the same sort of unhappy rage that Emily's did, but Billy just made me feel small and ashamed. "I guess I am," I muttered.

"Stop it," he said, his words bearing the weight of finality, "Or you will never be happy again. You need to get control, and you need to deal with Emily. She is your imprint, and nothing will ever change that, as long as you live. And now, she's seen you."

"I don't love her," I grumbled.

"I don't care," Billy had never been quite so stern with me. "I know what imprinting does to a person. I know you're lying, and maybe you're lying to yourself, too."

"But, Leah..."

"No, Sam," he snapped. "Leah will move on from you. You will never move on from Emily. Deal with it."

"How?" I challenged, feeling the familiar fury at last begin to boil.

"Talk to her. Tell her what you are, Sam, before the they have to start sending out hunting parties for a giant wolf that barely exists. Get control of yourself. Make the Wolf a part of you, and make Emily a part of your life."

To my surprise, that calmed me. He was right. Hesitantly, I consented. "...Alright, then," I said. "I'll talk to her."

"Good," Billy said brusquely. "Jacob will drive you home."

I took that to mean that he was angry with me, and I was not welcome to hang around. "It's fine," I grunted. "I wont bother him. I transform and run back in the woods."

Billy nodded, and I took my leave.

The second I got home, I called Leah's house in search of Emily. To my dread, it was Leah who answered the phone. "Sam?" She said, having pulled my name off the caller ID. She sounded unusually eager. "I haven't heard from you in ages! Are you okay?"

I resolved to be as cold with her as I possibly could. "Fine," I said, my tone satisfyingly frosty. "I want to talk to Emily."

In Leah's pause, I imagined her confusion, but to her credit, she didn't ask me why. "Can we talk first?" she asked, sounding slightly hurt.

I hesitated, knowing what my reply had to be but dreading the word. "No," I finally snapped. "Just give the phone to Emily."

There was silence. This time, I imagined, it implied fury, but Emily's voice suddenly appeared on the line.

"Hello?" she asked, sounding uncertain.

"Hey. It's Sam," I imagined Leah had been too angry to give her that detail.

"Oh. That's... unexpected. What's up?"

"I wanted to discuss your offer."

"What offer?"

"Friendship."

"Oh. What about it?"

I cleared my throat, suddenly nervous. "Can we meet up? Later today, maybe? As soon as possible," I hoped I didn't sound overly eager.

Emily's reply was hesitant and suspicious, but she didn't refuse me. "Alright. How about in an hour? Should I come over?"

"Sounds good."

"See you, then," she said peppily.

My voice, by contrast, was dreary. "See you."

There was a click as she hung up. A moment later, I put down the phone.

I spent the next hour pacing across my room, counting steps, counting seconds, waiting for the hour to end. I wasn't sure if I was just nervous to see her, afraid of what I had to do, or simply horrified with myself for even contacting her again. I never wanted to betray Leah so terribly.

I ended up meeting Emily outside.

"Hey, Sam!" she exclaimed, smiling at me. It sent shivers down my spine. What a brilliant smile, and I found myself ecstatic to see it directed my way. If she was uncomfortable by my sudden summons, she hid it well.

"Hey," I replied in my usual, uncaring tone. As usual, Emily was unfazed. "Come around back, okay? It's nice out. We can sit in the yard," I said, beaconing her as I strode around the house. She followed without comment, and then sat down beside me in the grass facing out of the forest. "I heard you saw something in the woods," I offered, when it seemed she had no conversation to bring to me.

"Oh, yeah, I did," Emily said, a worried little crease appearing between her eyes. I smiled, suddenly filled with a desire to reach out and touch the sweet indentation. "Is that what you called me here so suddenly for? You're such an odd one, Sam Uley."

"Humor me," I grunted with a wry smile. "Also, why do you keep using my full name?"

Emily shrugged. "I don't know. It just always comes out like that."

"Stop it."

"Why?"  
"It's… too impersonal. I don't like it."

She looked surprised, bright brown eyes widening slightly. "Alright, then… Sam," she carefully replied. "Now, what did you want to know about the wolf?"

"I heard it was a beast, not a wolf specifically," I frowned at her.

Emily shook her head. "No, it's definitely a wolf. Bigger than any wolf I'd ever seen before, but definitely a wolf."

"Are you scared?"

"No. Should I be, do you think? I just saw it the once, and nobody else has heard anything about it. Maybe it was just passing through."

I quietly sighed. If only. "Maybe. Describe it to me in detail."

"It was hard to see. Huge, jet black fur…. Biggest paws I've ever seen. Huge, frightened yellow eyes…"

"Yellow? Really?" I asked, slightly disappointed. It would've sounded much better if she had described them as gold. "And frightened?" Apparently, I wasn't as terrifying as I thought myself.

"Is that disappointment I detect?"

I shrugged, "Maybe?"

"What, you wanted a giant monster to do battle with?"

I looked at her, shocked for a moment, before it dawned on me: she was teasing me. Emily was _teasing_ me, as if we were really and truly friends.

Huh. Were we flirting, then?

"Er… no," I finally responded. "It's nothing. You're sure the eyes were yellow, not gold?"

"It's kind of a mundane sort of detail, Sam," Emily said, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Of course," I said quickly, running nervous fingers through my hair. "Forget I mentioned it."

"You think the eyes are gold. Have you seen it too?" She said, giving me a hard look.

"Yeah," I admitted, glancing at the ground. It was progress.

"And you haven't told anyone?" she challenged.

I sighed softly and glanced skyward. "It's more complicated than you think?"

Emily looked annoyed with me again. "Oh, you and your cryptic little hints. I'm sure it's not half as complicated as you're making it. Quit being such an ass."

I frowned, suddenly defensive. "All right, then," I responded, carefully controlling my voice as I stood up and offered her my hand. "Lets take a walk. We'll go into the forest and I'll tell you everything. I promise."

"Into the forest? Its kind of dangerous out there, isn't it, what with the giant black wolf?" She raised an eyebrow at me, and I found it notably endearing. "And besides, inviting me for a walk in the forest is vaguely creepy."

I laughed slightly. "Come on, you know Leah wouldn't date a creep."

Emily shrugged, "You _have_ been a little odd lately."

There was the usual wave of anger at that—who was she to judge? —When I realized, yet again, that she was teasing me.

More flirting? Despite the tease, she sighed slightly, and then took my hand and got up. "I guess I can trust Leah's impressions. And you're certainly buff enough to protect me form wolves. I suppose," she said, looking appraisingly at me.

It was true—though I had been in a bit too much of a stupor to notice, I had grown immensely. I was taller, and certainly stronger, thanks to the influence of the Wolf.

I lead Emily into the woods. She walked a step or so behind me, looking wary despite our banter. "How much do you know of Quileute legends, Emily?" I asked, deciding to begin on more familiar grounds.

"I know a bit. Something about wolves. I can already tell you're planning on refreshing my memory," I glanced over at her, and she grinned at me.

"I must seem terribly obvious to you."

She laughed, a refreshing, bell-like sound. "Only sometimes. Didn't I just get done chewing you out for being cryptic?"

"True," I laughed along with her. The more time I spent with Emily, the more I liked her, even without the influence of the Wolf. She was… wonderful. Witty, stubborn, and bright.

"So then, tell me about these legends of yours."  
"Well, I wont bore you with the details, but it seems my ancestors turned into wolves in order to do battle with something vaguely resembling a vampire. The elders call them the Cold Ones."

Emily nodded, thoughtful. "Yeah, I know about that."

"Do you believe it?"

"Yes." She paused. "Which is a bit crazy, I know. But why not believe? There are wilder things in the world. My tribe has our own stories. Culture is one of the only things that makes sense, really."

I smiled, slightly. I hadn't asked for a justification, but she had offered one, a rare glimpse into the mind of my imprint. I loved it.

"Good," I said, my smile turning to a grin. "That makes my life a lot easier."

"How so?"

I jogged a few steps ahead of her, grinning manically as I turned to face her. "Because they're true."

And then, I did it. It came easily, this time. There was no tearing of my mind, no rush of blackness, or bubbling fury coming to surface in my head. Just… me. The Wolf was there, certainly, but as a content, benign sort of co-consciousness simply watching my actions unfold.

Not even the way I looked at Emily changed. There was none of the Wolf's ferocious lust in my heart. It was quite simple, really, I came to realize: I was Sam, and she was Emily, and this was right. I was fully in my proper mind, and my feelings for her were undeniable. There was no change in them across the transformation.

As I transformed and drew those conclusions, Emily just stared at me. Her expression was painfully solemn, lovely almond eyes slightly wide, but she kept her expression otherwise blank. I watched her closely, the golden—yellow, apparently-eyes of my Wolf body locked with hers. She held my gaze, giving me a new adjective for my mental descriptions of her: she was brave. Incredibly so. She reached out, her fingers hanging in the air just inches above my head, lingering there like some shy bird. Gently, I raised my snout to nudge her palm with my nose. She didn't move, but I could've sworn I felt shockwaves at the contact.

"So this is what you're hiding from Leah…" Emily murmured, awestruck. "You're a legend come to life."

I gave my best and most impressive wolfish nod, and then darted off into the trees to transform back and put on the clothes I had kept hidden there. I heard Emily calling out for me, a new twinge of fear in her voice. I smiled slightly as I transformed back into myself: she didn't know how impossible it would be for me to just leave her there. A few moments later, I remerged to find an anxious Emily awaiting me. She smiled as I approached, apparently relieved. "Well, I'm happy to see you yourself again," she said with a nervous laugh. "I was beginning to think I was going mad and had imagined the whole thing."

That made me grin wildly. "I know how you feel," I laughed.

"I'll bet you do," she grinned back at me with a knowing look in her eye. It occurred to me that my imprint was quite perceptive.

"So why can you show that to me, but not Leah?" She asked. Too perceptive, maybe.

Quickly, I scrambled for an excuse. "Well, tribal law is that I can't show anyone. I'm sort of like a secret defense force. Well, not just me, usually in legends there's a whole pack, but I'm the only one at the moment. But that law only applies to the Quileute people," I explained, "and you're Makah." It was a lie, but I'd rather have lied to her than told her the truth then and there.

Emily looked mistrustfully at me. She didn't believe a wick of it. I waited for her confrontation, but it never came. She simply shrugged. "Well, at least you're not doing hard drugs," she muttered. "So is this the reason you broke up with Leah?"

I sighed, softly. "This is part of it. It's a secret too big to keep from somebody you love."

"So you love her?"

I rolled my eyes, unwilling to allow the conversation back into those waters.

"Yes," I said, quickly. "But not like I used to. This Wolf thing has changed me a whole lot."

"I noticed." Emily's voice was soft, and comforting in tone. "So why did you decide to tell me the truth all of a sudden?"

I shrugged, "I needed to tell somebody." It was the truth—carrying my secret was crushing me. I was getting good and telling half-truths to get by, I noticed.

"You've hurt Leah, you know," she said, her tone careful. She knew the dangerous waters she was treading.

"I know."

"She's not the ice queen you say she is."

"God, I know," I groaned. "I know exactly what I've done, Emily, and I can't take any of it back."

"And now she can't trust either of us." Emily sounded wistful. "She knows we met up, after all. And I can't tell her what went on."

I found myself engulfed in a wave of self-directed anger. "I know," I repeated. "It's my fault entirely. I've messed up everything for her. I know it, Emily, I do. But you know why I can't change any of it." I was furious at my own helplessness: I did care about Leah. Of course. But there was nothing else I could've done except run away, or else risk hurting her far worse than I already had. My anger faded to a wellspring of guilt.

"I understand, Sam," Emily said, softly. I loved the careful way she decided her tone with every thing she said. She was good at being comforting.

"Should we… head back, then?" I asked, giving her a weak smile.

She grinned encouragingly at me. "Let's head back. Thanks for showing me your secret."

"Thanks for handling it so well."

"I guess we're friends for real, now," she laughed slightly.

Thoughtlessly, I laughed in return. "I don't know, Emily, I haven't heard any of your secrets yet."

"I haven't got any," she proclaimed, grinning.

"Whatever you say," I shrugged, shaking my head. "I'll crack you eventually."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "You just try it, Sam Uley."

Our banter continued much the same way until we got back to my yard, where Emily gave me one last grin and headed home, leaving me with a great deal more happiness than I had experienced in a long time.


End file.
